One Last Time
by snarkyroxy
Summary: Deathly Hallows spoilers. Fleeing Hogwarts after his confrontation with McGonagall and the other teachers, Severus has one place he must go before returning to face Voldemort – and Harry – for the last time


_Disclaimer: I just like to borrow them and play with them… but now that the owner doesn't need them any more, do you think I could get away with keeping them?_

_Author's Note: This is Emma's fault, so this is for her. She emailed me at work today with a quote from one of our favourite movies… "More wine!" …and it went on from there. If anyone can make the connections between the quote and this story, congratulations, you're as crazy as we are._

_Another fill-in-the-blanks story… I did say there would be more, didn't I? _

* * *

**One Last Time**

It was close to midnight, the deep shadows melding with a grey mist that crept low over land. A light breeze stirred the trees, moving like invisible fingers through the fog, and where it parted, the stars could be seen, twinkling softly in the moonless sky.

A _crack _ broke the stillness, and a bird took flight, startled from its roost in the tallest tree. From the shadows beneath the tree, a man emerged; cloaked and hooded, he walked stealthily out into the open. His posture was one of alertness, ready at any moment to attack a foe… or disappear as quickly as he had come.

The figure didn't pause as he strode purposefully across the ground, weaving in and around the cracked and faded headstones. Some were broken, pieces missing, buried in the overgrown grass or stolen by thieves plundering from the dead.

One, though, was perfectly intact. Neither worn nor faded, it stood proudly… almost defiantly. Death might have claimed those who lay beneath it, but the stone would stand proudly in their stead.

Reaching that headstone, the man halted. In one hand, he clutched a single, white rose, its colour almost luminescent in the night. He slowly dropped to one knee, and as he lowered his hood in respect for the dead, the breeze blew stronger, whipping his dark hair about his pale face.

He didn't bother to brush it aside; he didn't need to see the words on the headstone. He had been here many times before; every year, in fact. Not on the anniversary of that fateful night that had claimed her life… no, remembering that tragedy was too painful, even now.

Instead, it was her birthday that usually drew him here to lay a flower upon the stone that was the only memory of the woman who, even in death, even with another man lying beside her as her husband, still owned his heart.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, he knew, would be the last time he would feel the grass beneath him as he knelt before her grave. Tonight would be the last time he would feel the wind on his face, the smooth marble under his fingertips as he traced the words that were etched into his memory:

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death_

Tonight, it would be his turn… his turn to look death in the eyes and bow to his fate.

Tonight, perhaps after it was all over, he would see her again.

Tracing her name lightly with the tip of one finger, he finally spoke, his voice low and rough with emotion.

"I think this is finally the end, Lily. This is the night we have all been waiting for and working towards. Voldemort is on his way to Hogwarts; your son will be there to meet him. Tonight, they will face each other for the last time. I mustn't linger, for I still have much to do, but I had to come here one last time. I had to…"

He let his hand drop, and stared upwards for a moment, bright, dark eyes searching the sky as though looking for an answer… looking for an absolution.

Severus Snape had fled Hogwarts tonight, when those who had been his colleagues, who were still, unbeknownst to them, his allies, had finally turned upon him. Now, his task would be all the more difficult. Somehow, he had to find Potter. Not only find him, but finally tell him the truth… the whole, terrible truth.

That their efforts had been in vain. That, although Voldemort may be defeated, the boy, too, would have to die.

How could he stand before her grave and admit his failure? How could he tell her that, though he had done everything in his power to protect her son – her son with a man he had hated – in the end, it had all been for nothing?

All he could do now was to make sure the boy knew the truth before the end. The truth about Voldemort, the truth about the prophecy, the truth about Dumbledore… And, perhaps selfishly, he would make sure Potter knew the truth about him, too.

He deserved to understand.

Suddenly, the mark on his arm flared briefly, and then the pain subsided again. It was a reminder that he should return to Hogwarts… not to fight as the Dark Lord assumed, but to finish what he had started so many years ago.

He stood, fear creeping into his mind as he considered the consequences of failure. He had been playing this role, playing both sides, for the better part of twenty years… the last three of them actively and without arousing suspicion.

But the thought of what he had to do now… openly declare his loyalties… bare his soul to a boy who wanted him dead… it frightened him more than standing before the Dark Lord ever had.

Staring down at the white marble marker, he drew a crumpled piece of paper from within his cloak. The elegant handwriting was smudged around the edges, but four words were still decipherable.

_ Lots of love,_

_Lily  
_

With the greatest of care, he pinned the piece of paper to the rose's stem, making sure the thorns that secured it didn't pierce the words.

Reverently, he lay the rose atop the headstone.

"Help me end it, Lily," he whispered, his voice cracking as he spoke her name one last time. "Give me the strength to do what I must… the strength to do what is right. I promise you I will do everything I can to keep him safe, as I have always done. I will go before him this night, but if he should follow… I pray we can both walk beside you once more."

There was no answer, but there never had been.

He bent over the headstone and gently pressed his lips to the petals of the rose. A single tear fell onto the marble, running down the face of the headstone, following an invisible path until it disappeared into one of the letters of her name.

Resolute, he straightened, his dark eyes filled with pain but also with purpose as he Disapparated.

It was time to face his demon.

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fin

_Author's Note: I just wanted to quickly point out, in case anyone missed the meaning, that the singular demon in the last line isn't a typo. Whether or not that demon is Voldemort or Harry… who truly knows_


End file.
